Unlucky Strike
by The Pwning Defenestrator
Summary: CH. 2 POSTED 'Nick heard his boss shout his name, but anything after that was drowned out by torrents of rocks careening from every direction.' ... Or, our version of S.3's 'Lucky Strike.' WIP
1. Chapter 1

**The way the cave/mine scene in the Season 3 ep "Lucky Strike" would have gone...if we'd written it.**

**P.S. -- We don't own CSI. Imagine that...**

"Air's gettin' thick," Nick coughed, lifting a hand and waving away particles of dust.

"Smells like trinitrotoluene," Grissom murmured as he and Nick advanced into the cave. Grissom coughed a bit as well in the haze of dust, but he appeared undeterred. Since they'd found those bugs headed deeper into the cave, Grissom had only been more determined to further investigate. Nick knew that any potential crime scene involving insects would immediately set the entomologist into his element.

The next time Grissom leaned over, however, wasn't to examine more insects. The criminalist plucked a splintered piece of wood from a pile of similarly fractured pieces. Nick crouched down next to his boss, angling his flashlight onto the sharp spike of wood.

"Look familiar?" Grissom asked the younger CSI.

Nick nodded. "Yeah," he agreed, standing back up again. "But how did it get in the back of the guy's head?"

Both men looked around the cave for clues. Finally, their roving eyes stopped on a rubbery black cable, half-buried in the dirt and cave debris.

Grissom pressed his lips together - he wasn't surprised. "Fuse line-dynamite."

This discovery helped a scenario form in his head regarding their victim, but also raised another, more immediate concern. If any type of dynamite had been used in this cave, especially by untrained parties, the wall stability could be compromised. Grissom sighed. There was no telling what kind of constancy the cave walls held.

The two CSIs walked further into the cave, following the grime-covered fuse line. As Nick took in their surroundings, Grissom noticed the uneasy expression on his younger colleague's face. The entomologist remained characteristically impassive, unconsciously running his hand along the rough stone wall as they progressed. He could feel slight grooves scraped into the cool stone - scratches that betrayed a history of explosion.

Several meters later, they reached a large pile of dirt and debris. Grissom slowly climbed over the pile first, with Nick following his supervisor's cautious steps. "Hey, Nicky, do you think-" Grissom drew in a sharp breath and stopped dead in his tracks.

Nick, concentrating on keeping his balance through the mass of rubble, barely avoided slamming into Grissom's back. "Griss, what the…" He peered ahead, trying to see what caused the halt. As his eyes lowered, he saw the dusty abdomen his boss had narrowly avoided stepping on.

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Ahh. 'If Cave be Grave and Grave be Cave, Then render judge I crave.'"

Nick let out an exasperated laugh. Only his boss could pull out the cave puns during a time like this. "Let me see… Poe? Frost? Or maybe some speleologist poet of the 14th century?"

Grissom moved carefully around the body, allowing Nick room to step over the pile and move to the opposite side. "Actually," he paused, inspecting the debris hiding part of the corpse. "It's from a memorial in the Holy Trinity Church of Barrow upon Soar, England. It indicates a spirit of levity which assorts strangely with the sacred atmosphere."

Nick coughed as he helped his boss begin to uncover the vic. "Right."

The two CSIs proceeded carefully. The body remained partially buried under splintered pieces of wood, rocks, and dirt, similar to the rubble they had passed earlier in their trek. They carefully brushed away the wreckage covering their potential murder victim.

Grissom's eyes narrowed when he leaned closer to inspect the chest.

"Chest wound. Possibly from our .38. Just about two days old."

"Alright. Let's see if we can ID this guy." Nick began feeling around the body for a wallet. Careful not to disturb the scene, he reached under the corpse and into a worn, denim pocket. His eyes lit up as his fingers hit leather, and he pulled the battered wallet to freedom. Opening the flap, he was greeted by more than just an ID.

"Agh," he grumbled in disgust. A long centipede had apparently taken up residence on top of the Nevada driver's license. He shook the wallet, trying to rid the evidence of one of Grissom's little friends, but his dusty fingers slipped and sent the leather flying several feet further into the cave. The entomologist's only response was a trademark eyebrow-raise. Nick shrugged, and with a sheepish grin, got up to retrieve the wallet.

The Texan walked carefully into the darkness. He swept his flashlight slowly over the ground, trying not to disrupt too much of a potential crime scene. Finally, the beam of light revealed the wallet, which lay haphazardly on a pile of rocks. Smiling, Nick walked over to the dark corner, crouching to retrieve the evidence.

His smile turned grim as his flashlight uncovered something else near the wallet.

"Hey Griss…check this out."

Grissom stood up, stretching out kinks that seemed to form all too quickly these days. The older CSI walked over to where his colleague was standing and followed Nick's gaze down to a dilapidated wooden box. It contents were empty except for another coil of fuse, identical to the line they had already spotted.

"This is turning into quite the treasure hunt," Grissom murmured, placing a hand on the wall for support as he leaned down to inspect the fuse.

Before the supervisor could get a clear look, his hand jerked and caused his body to stumble forward. If he hadn't thought the wall would be pliable, then he certainly didn't expect it to snap under his weight. Grissom whipped his head around to see what the problem was and discovered he hadn't leaned on stone, but instead an old, wooden support beam.

"Griss? You alright?" Nick asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, Nicky," Grissom turned back to the new evidence. "And as it appears, so is this fuse. From the looks of it, this wire can't have been here too…" Grissom trailed off as he noticed his younger colleague seemed to be ignoring him. Nick's head was tilted to the side, and he looked nervous.

"Do you hear that?" Nick was eyeing the cave walls warily.

The older man shook his head, but stopped as he realized he could hear something - a faint rumbling in the dark. "Nick, I think…" Grissom stopped as the rumbling grew louder.

Both CSIs looked up as dust trickled down and steadily grew heavier. Nick heard his boss shout his name but anything after that was drowned out by torrents of rocks careening from every direction.

Grissom felt himself paralyzed by a moment of very un-CSI-like panic as cave debris pelted his shoulders. Suddenly, something hard slammed against the side of his body, causing him to stagger over several feet. Though disoriented, quickly realized it had been Nick pushing him toward the direction of the cave's entrance.

"Grissom!" Nick's muffled voice shouted, "we gotta get outta here!"

"Yeah!" Grissom managed to yell back, though he doubted Nick could hear him through the deluge of debris.

The older CSI began to move towards the entrance, but had only gone several feet before he realized Nick wasn't behind him.

"Nick! Nick!" Grissom looked desperately for the other man but could hardly see his own hand in front of him. The wreckage seemed to be falling faster now, so he dove to the ground and covered his head. He winced as stones and the occasional piece of wood hit his back, but from what he could hear, the fall of wreckage was worse towards the back of the cave - the direction he'd last seen Nick.

After what Grissom believed to be the longest 30 seconds of his life, the rain of earth slowed and finally ebbed to a mere trickle. The entomologist raised his head slowly, shaking off the grimy layer of dirt and stones covering his body. After silently assuring himself he was uninjured, he turned quickly towards the area Nick had been during the cave-in.

His heart plummeted at the sight: a mountain of rocks, wood, and rubble - and no Nick.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who left us such great reviews! The two of us are going to be busy in coming weeks, but we'll do our best to update regularly.**

Grissom clamped down on the fear that had momentarily seized his power of speech.

"Nick?" He licked his dry lips; his voice sounded weak and cracked to his own ears. "Nick? Nicky! Can you hear me?" Grissom tried not to let the ominous lack of response exacerbate his already high level of panic. He stood shakily and moved forward as quickly as the cluttered, dark surroundings would allow. Still, only silence greeted him.

Upon reaching the pile, Grissom's worry for his younger colleague only worsened. He began pulling rocks and brushing dirt from the mound, frantically tossing objects to the side of… _Wait, _he thought, _this place could still be unstable_! Grissom would have laughed at his own stupidity if the situation weren't so dire. He started tossing pieces backwards, where he had previously been lying, instead of next to the pile. They couldn't afford another cave-in – not before he found if they even survived this one.

Suddenly, the pile shifted slightly, causing Grissom to jerk back in surprise. He froze, and for a moment was only rewarded with the sound of his own harsh panting.

"Nick?"

The pile responded by shifting again, then faintly groaning.

"Mmmm….here."

Grissom closed his eyes and took what felt like his first breath in ten minutes.

"I'm here Nicky. Just stay still. I'm digging you out," Grissom assured the younger CSI, resuming his excavation efforts. "Are you alright?"

Nick wanted to laugh, but for the fog currently enveloping his brain. Now Grissom's California whatever-nosed bats were the least of his problems. "Uh…I'm alive," was the faint, shaky response. Another muffled cough sounded from under the pile. "You ok?"

"I'm fine, but let's finish getting all this off of you," Grissom responded, and Nick relaxed slightly. The last thing he remembered was pushing his seemingly unhearing boss away from the falling debris.

Grissom continued his task with the same focused determination he normally reserved for the lab. Sweat trailed lines down his dust-covered face and dripped into his eyes. The entomologist paused to wipe his shirt sleeve across his forehead – he hoped to be getting closer, as Nick's weak voice sounded a bit clearer now. He shifted a textbook-sized rock and heard Nick let out a sharp hiss.

"Nicky?" Grissom asked tensely, immediately stopping his hands. "What is it?"

"Nah… s'alright," came the weary Texas accent, "I think I can … there we go." The younger CSI shifted the debris covering him, and Grissom saw a hand push out of the pile. Judging by the location of Nick's hand, Grissom realized he'd been digging at Nick's feet. The supervisor quickly moved around to the opposite end where he figured Nick's head would be.

Within minutes he was rewarded for the change in position and finally uncovered his colleague's head. Nick coughed a few more times and used his free hand to pass over his grimy face. "And I was worried about bat attacks," Nick mumbled. Grissom gave him a bleak smile.

"Nice to see you again," Nick said wearily before his coughing resumed. Dust flew from his mouth and the debris still covering him jiggled unsteadily.

"Likewise," Grissom said, resuming his task. "Are you hurt?"

Nick winced, and nodded. He immediately regretted that move as pain lanced through his head.

"I….I uh…think I broke my wrist," Nick said shakily, glancing towards his still-pinned left arm. "And something is wrong with my leg..." the CSI trailed off, looking dazed and putting his free hand to his head.

"And your head, it looks like," Grissom said, noticing when Nick's hand moved from his skull it was wet with blood. The supervisor stopped uncovering Nick's other arm and side to tilt the injured criminalist's head forward. Nick complied, wincing. Grissom looked around for one of their flashlights. He found Nick's lying on the ground, still powered on, and somehow, miraculously undamaged. Shining it on the back of his CSI's head, he could see the dark hair was matted with a decent amount of blood. After moving some hair aside, Grissom could partially see a gash a few inches wide. In the dim light it didn't look exceptionally deep, but then he noticed a bump swelling under the injury; even if Nick's head injury wasn't severe, it was bad enough.

Nick's sudden shiver broke Grissom's train of thought. The older man sighed, and began taking off his jacket.

"Wh…what are you doing?" Nick asked, his teeth chattering.

"You're going into shock," Grissom said gently, covering the other CSI with his jacket. Grissom knew from his first aid training that a person exhibiting symptoms of shock should also have his feet raised, but he was concerned about Nick's complaint of leg pain. Until he knew the extent of that injury, he wouldn't risk moving it and possibly making matters worse. As if they could _get_ worse, he thought ruefully.

"Man….of all the luck," Nick mumbled, giving his boss a ghost of his usual smirk. "I just figured this place would be pretty stable for them to let us in. Guess not."

"Well," Grissom replied, back to removing the rubble covering Nick's legs, "It probably didn't help matters when I leaned against that wooden post." The older CSI was encouraged by Nick's level of consciousness, despite the fact that he still looked slightly dazed in the meager light. Grissom knew to remain guarded, however – he doubted Nick would be in shock this quickly simply as a result of his head wound. The weight in his gut told him he'd probably uncover something more serious along the way.

Nick didn't blame Grissom for the cave-in but didn't have the energy to argue. In fact, Nick had never felt more useless in his life. He wanted to help his boss get the rest of the debris off his legs, but where his body wasn't engulfed in pain, it felt heavy and leaden. With a sigh, he closed his eyes again –

"Hey!"

Nick's eyes peeled back open again and slowly focused on the other man.

"Come on now." Grissom tried to keep his voice calm and even. It was a strange feeling for him to be lacking complete control of a situation. Even at the worst crime scenes, his team counted on his cool professionalism. But this was different – this was personal. "You need to stay awake, Nick."

"Yeah. I know." Nick shivered a little. "Sorry."

Finally, Grissom removed the last rocks from Nick's lower body, taking note of the younger CSI's wince as the left leg was uncovered. Looking more closely, Grissom could see the cause of Nick's discomfort.

"Your ankle is pretty swollen," the supervisor said matter-of-factly.

"Figured as much," Nick mumbled.

"Can you move it?" Grissom asked, wondering if it was broken or just sprained.

Nick bit his lip, and Grissom watched as the left foot wiggled.

"If you can move it, it's probably just a bad sprain," Grissom said, relieved to not find a more severe injury. "Your legs hurt anywhere else?"

"Naw," Nick decided, after thinking for a moment. "Just sore otherwise."

"Ok," Grissom said, "let's get through the rest of you, then we'll worry about getting out of here."

"Well, that's gonna be a whole 'nother problem," Nick sighed from his prone position on the ground. Grissom raised an eyebrow, puzzled; Nick nodded wearily in the direction beyond Grissom's turned back. The mobile CSI twisted around, shining his flashlight towards the way they'd entered the cave. What had previously been an earthen passageway created by the length of the mine was now a larger, yet sickeningly familiar mountain of debris. Grissom briefly wondered if he told Catherine where they were going.

"Well. This complicates matters."

**TBC... **


End file.
